Hotch's Returns
by bookworm3103
Summary: Ever wonder what the team members do when they get back from a case? This is my take on what Hotch and my OC do when he comes back in different states of mind. Just some simple Hotch & OC family fluff!


She never knew what version of SSA Aaron Hotchner would greet her as she opened the door to him after a case.

Sometimes he would come back the conquering hero, having saved another victim, put another unsub behind bars and another case to rest. He was never happy about the case, because there were always too many victims, but a good case would leave him feeling proud of his team and the work that they did, and he'd let himself smile.

When he returned with his trademark grin, there'd be simple conversation to go along with a lively meal, the highlights of Reid and Morgan's most recent prank war or JJ's most recent cheeto binge being the main topics of conversation. There'd be fits of laughter followed by the occasional deep moment, and maybe yet another embarrassing tale about Rossi's obsessed fans. After the oh-so-enlightening meal, a trip to the mini-golf course (with numerous lost golf balls) or a comfortable night in with buttery popcorn, a comfortable couch, and a comedy would bring the night to a close. Nights accidentally spent on the couch after dozing off were the norm, until one of them would stir, forcing themselves and the other sleepy-head to move to their respective beds, to minimize the soreness that would plague them the following day.

Other times he would simply be exhausted; the never-ending hours spent pouring over every detail of a particularly disturbing case draining him so that he was physically incapable of anything other than sleep.

She was often amazed that he'd manage to drive home when he was in such a fog, but she'd hold her back her comments (at least until the morning) while gently hushing him, steering him into the kitchen (making sure he ate) before forcing him into his room, where he would fall into a dreamless (and much needed) sleep. He was often reluctant to let her take care of him, insisting that it was his job to take care of her, but some nights he was too tired to protest and complied without thought. The button-ed up agent wouldn't recall what had happened when he woke the next morning, at least until he noticed that his suit would require dry-cleaning, as he'd fallen asleep before changing into pajamas. She would then wake up to pancakes and a well-intentioned questioning about what had happened while he was away, although some details would be lost between bites of syrupy goodness.

Having returned home before completing the required paperwork the ever-so-responsible agent would settle down on the sofa with his case files while she flopped next to him with her most recent book, the only interruptions consisting of a gentle nudge and joke when his stress level would begin to rise at the ridiculousness that was bureaucracy.

But there were times when neither of these more common variations were the SSA Hotchner that stood at the door; times when the darkness that made up his job would catch up to him and demand to be felt, when he would question why he even bothered trying to fight a losing battle against the evil that filled the world, when he was forced to watch another innocent victim draw their last breath or have their life changed forever just so a sick animal would feel better. He would wonder, if only for a moment, if there was any decency left in the human race.

It was at times like these that he needed her the most. She'd simply help him out of his jacket and give him the comfort he needed. Her hug would last for as long as they could stand it, at which point she would simply remain close, providing the solace that only the simple innocence of a gentle soul that wanted nothing more than to help can. There were no long conversations or well-meant (yet untrue) remarks about how she understood what he was going through, because she didn't have to, because he didn't want her to. He couldn't let her to see what he saw, the comfort she gave in simply wishing to take away his pain was something more than his BAU team could provide. At those times she was a much-needed escape from the pain of his reality, which meant more than either one could express.

She occasionally found herself wondering what version of SSA Agent Hotchner would walk through the doorway, but one day realized that Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner was never the person that came home to her. Oh she knew all about his famous glares and seemingly emotionless attitude that most associated with the agent (mostly because they were directed at her more often than any other) but that was never who she met at the door. No, she came to find that it was always Aaron Hotchner the man that walked through their door; it was a man and not an agent that so often greeted her, and that was one of the many things she loved about him.

So no, she never chose a favorite "version" of SSA Hotchner of the BAU of the FBI. She simply loved Aaron Hotchner for the man that he was, with all of his faults and needs, the best version she could ever hope for, and the only one she would ever want.


End file.
